TARDIS Musings
by MadameMorganLeFay
Summary: Musings of the Tenth Doctor from the TARDIS, drabble form.
1. Chapter 1: And

**CHAPTER I: AND**

* * *

And.

The Doctor had never paid attention to that tiny word until he realised his name had changed. No longer was he _"The Doctor"_, but _"The Doctor and Rose Tyler." _This was the power of "and", bridging two worlds. Long ago, he would have thought that being a Time Lord was enough, with all the danger and loneliness it brought. The idea of him finding someone worthy of "and"?

Impossible- until now.

Life had changed in the police box. On waking, he would smell coffee, and hear clunking from his dying kettle. Rose Tyler wouldn't hear of its replacement, though she railed against its habit of fainting and having a seizure every morning. The other day, he discovered a pot of Claire's fluorescent pink nail varnish on top of the central humidifier. After that, Rose took to sitting on any counter she could find, even if her swinging legs blocked vital TARDIS machines.

He never complained. Instead, they had developed inside jokes, methods of staying sane as they spun through time and space. If they crashed several centuries into the future, no problem: they could always hop back into the TARDIS. If not... Well, at that point they would burst out laughing. Then came the jokes about eating aliens or getting eaten, calling the police if they got mugged on another planet, quitting their job and settling down with a mortgage.

Sometimes the jokes drifted too close to home, leading to awkward glances and intimate silences.

Of course, he had to send her home from time to time. At that point, he would lean against the TARDIS door wondering how on earth humans coped with one heart. If you watched someone walk away with no idea of when they would return, you needed at least two. Eventually, he would slink back inside, chilled to the bone. It had nothing to do with winter; the TARDIS whispered everything he dared not say.

In time, however, he heard a knock. With his face breaking into a wild smile, he rushed to the door, flung it open. _Rose! Hello, Doctor. _Always the same nondescript greeting, the same undefinable affecting shining in her eyes. She seemed to say that this senseless orbit through history and the future was infinitely preferably to a Friday night fish and chips. Or so he believed. Whatever the reason, whether rain or shine, Rose Tyler always returned.

At the end of the matter, he was no longer _"The Doctor"_, but _"The Doctor and Rose Tyler." _

And Rose Tyler.


	2. Chapter 2: Alone

**CHAPTER II: ALONE**

* * *

London sagged under the weight of late December snow. Only The Doctor could enjoy it even if his feet disappeared into mounds of white powder. These blanketed roads reminded him of the Moon, not that he had ever visited. Another Time Lord had, though, and spent the rest of his life jumping like an astronaut. The Doctor, in more ordinary circumstances, needed only fear drenched converses and potential pneumonia- no reason for ingratitude.

But his smile faded a little.

Well-wishers with ruddy cheeks, wrapped in fur, mumbled seasons greetings as they floated from shop to shop. Yawning grey buildings, also splashed in white by the hand of a careless painter, had enough space for baubles, tinsel, cracked angels, stars, and holly. In fact, one sprig scratched his cheek as he rushed past Thornton's, wondering where on earth he could find a bar of chocolate. Normal people liked chocolate.

Yes, normal people...

Cars crawled along the roads, huffing in rage. Some drivers had resorted to pushing their vehicles rather than driving. How long since he had last driven a car? A year- two? He had forgotten the feeling of a steering wheel between his hands.

But what was the point imagining the feeling of driving when he had nowhere to go?

His heart sank.

As a distraction, he paused to examine a sprig of fir outside Clinton's. He had seen a similar species on Gallifrey a few years ago, even thicker than this. To see London now, one would have marvelled that any trees existed anymore. From the little he knew about normal people, trees were as essential to Christmas as... well, anything. The never-ending shopping complexes couldn't sway in the breeze and their splotched bricks seemed weaker than a trunk. Birds often flew smack bang into their windows- _thump_! Another pigeon fell lifeless into a snowy grave.

But this was London, and anyone ought to feel at home here. If they weren't called out to the furthest reaches of time and space on a whim, that is. If they had friends, family. If...

The Doctor stopped now, his smile gone.

How strange that on the happiest of days, the man with more power than anyone else here could feel so utterly alone.


End file.
